


Bad Habits

by Broba



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anger, M/M, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a wee little JohnKat drabble is all, got to get my practise on in time for the shipping olympics and whatnot.</p><p>Karkat reflects on the conflicting feelings engendered by his recent life choices, to wit his choice of matesprit who is currently getting right on his last nerve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Habits

Up in their room, John was studying for finals and Karkat was watching. In practice this meant that John was studying for his exams in fits and starts while Karkat glowered at him occasionally from his position on the bed where he was laying on his back with his legs shoved up the wall. He had been reading some obscure troll romance novella but had become disheartened and put it away. He found that he was unable to concentrate- mainly because of the habit John had of reciting what he was reading in a low, half-whisper. Karkat was certain that John didn't know he was doing it, which made it even worse in his mind. He could see John's face in profile where his human matesprit was hunched over the desk, lit from above by a desk lamp, and he could see John's lips moving steadily. The infuriating thing was how quiet John could be about it. Long periods would go by of welcome silence when Karkat would just about settle down and start to believe that John had stopped, and then just on the cusp of his hearing there would come the suggestion of a word or even just a syllable, and when he looked over John's lips were moving again. It was starting to drive Karkat, in a word, shithive maggots.  
  
Karkat closed his eyes and tried to think of something- anything- else. He appreciated that John's disgusting human carer-lusus figure had permitted him to live in this ridiculous human dwelling and he was trying to make an effort to curtail the tantrums accordingly. Nonetheless, it was difficult sometimes. Especially when John found a sentence troublesome and he would re-read it over and over again. The part that Karkat found most perplexing was that John's halting whisper would pick out the same syllables each time, implying that there was some organisation behind the way he would half-pronounce some words and cut others off entirely. Karkat looked upwards, from his perspective, at his bare feet above him. He was wriggling his heels back and forth against the white-painted surface, John was literally driving him up the wall.  
  
Karkat tapped his nubby claw-tips together thoughtfully. It was probably not outside of his abilities to build a hive of his own, given his superior troll understanding that was so far advanced of this backwards planet. After all, the others had. He was the only one who had decided on actually co-habiting with a human, rather then just maintaining a close relationship at a suitably dignified distance. However, he could picture John's face if he were ever to bring the subject up. That was a whole vat full of nonsense he had no intention of wading through. He could just about manage to choke down the horrible realities of life with a human and it was actually easier then trying to deal with the fallout of his life as it would be without one.  
  
The situation was deeply unfair, of course. John with his bizarre human monospectrum of emotion needed him to understand the pathetic human need for a far more exclusive relationship then was seemly, and at the same time when Karkat asked for just a little bit of commensurate understanding from John it always devolved into a shouting and crying match. Karkat stared up at the ceiling and tried to make human animals and human items out of the interplay of shadows swimming across the ceiling. He was not, by any human understanding of the term, happy with the situation but then he had not got into this thing expecting to be. The concept of trying to attain a rich and fulfilling happiness, all the time, without regular and equally stirring bouts of black hatred and rage was alien to him and so Karkat accepted dismay and the bracing hints of despair as a welcome soupçon to the emotional banquet he was trying to assemble. Thus, Karkat did not despair of the bitterness he was feeling towards John but internalised it and dwelled on it, feeding and cultivating the nourishing threads of thought until they strengthened and balanced him.  
  
Then, for the fifth time, John read over the same sentence and insisted on whispering roughly half of it aloud yet again. Karkat rolled over lithely and flopped onto the floor in a crouch, hissing softly through his teeth. John was barely aware of him, so wrapped up was he in the book. Karkat drew himself up and pressed his lips against the nape of John's neck, biting down gently and running his tongue over John's soft human skin. John yelped and squirmed, until Karkat reached around and seized the book, tossing it into a corner with all the others on the book pile he had graciously and carefully assembled without so much as a word of thanks. John realised that his boyfriend was frisky and just giggled, which irritated Karkat even more. When John strained to stand up, Karkat was tempted to bite down into his neck just to see how it would feel to do. But he did not, he let go and John swivelled around in his arms to kiss the end of his nose.  
  
Karkat reached up and delicately lifted the glasses from John's nose, laying them down respectfully on the desk. He then seized John again, and with a grunt of effort tossed him toward the bed. As he advanced on the bed and his waiting human, Karkat reflected that for all that John made him regret what he had willingly given up of his troll lifestyle, these moments when the anger took him made up for it- somewhat. As John willingly slid his shirt up over his head, he smiled at the grey blur that was his troll, difficult to make out without glasses on. He was relieved, he had thought he would have to whisper his way through the whole chapter before Karkat snapped.  
  



End file.
